


Old Scores

by orangeangora



Category: The Fifth Estate (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:53:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeangora/pseuds/orangeangora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some years later, Julian and Daniel meet to discuss the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Scores

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to be taken as fiction only.

The past should stay the past. At least when it comes to your personal life. It shouldn't just leap up and ambush you years later, but sometimes it does anyway. After I became well-known far beyond what I had ever expected - or, if I'm honest wanted, I lost a close friend. It took awhile to adjust. As another famous Australian once put it, breaking up isn't easy to do.

Last week, I got a message from that friend, saying he wanted to talk to me. In person. And in a moment of weakness or maybe insanity, I agreed. Which is why I'm standing in line at a nondescript coffee shop, tamping down the urge to flee. Maybe it's some sort of cosmic justice since I spend so much of my time revealing other people's dirty secrets, but to have your former friend write a memoir detailing your every last habit in extremely unflattering detail, still stings. 

I order coffee, pay the barrista and weave my way through the maze of tables until I reach where Daniel's sitting.

He hasn't changed a bit.

He looks like he's either going to hug me or slug me, so I brace myself. To my relief, he does neither, so I sit down, pry open the coffee lid and wait. This is the part where we probably should make small talk, but neither of us do.

"So what did you want to tell me about in person?" I say finally. Might as well get this over with.

"I have a biography coming out. If everything stays on schedule, it should be in stores next summer."

I stare at him. What does he expect me to say? Finally, when the silence gets too uncomfortable I shrug. "Great. Glad to hear it."

Thinking: Haven't you said enough? Also wondering how I can obtain an advance copy. Surely, it can't be that hard.

"It's not going to be a hatchet job on you and WikiLeaks. Not like....the first one."

I know I'm supposed to be forgiving, but I just can't fake it.

"The book was bad enough, but then you went and made that...execrable movie."

"It flopped, Julian. Which I imagine you weren't exactly sorry about."

"A Lifetime movie of the week had more depth."

Silence.

"But you got to be portrayed as the saint, whereas I got to be the mad genius who doesn't care who he hurts as long as Everyone Knows the Real Truth, so I imagine you didn't have a lot of problems with it."

He looks down into his drink and sighs. "Not everything was my decision, you know. There were a few other people involved besides me."

Right. All equally biased.

"Well, whoever was or wasn't involved, the fact remains that you made me look like someone who doesn't care about anyone's safety. You used to know that wasn't true."

Silence. Finally, "Well, I was a little angry at you at the time. But by now, I'm pretty over that."

Since he's sitting here, I might as well ask.

"So did I really traumatize your cat?"

He doesn't reply.

"It's just that if it really bothered you, you could have said something. It's not like I'm a mind reader...Anyway, now that we're playing True Confessions, is there anything you want to ask me?"

Again he looks down. "Why did you walk out on my parents when I invited you home that time?"

"I was...uncomfortable."

"Why? They bent over backwards to make sure you felt welcome. They still bring it up, you know. What was wrong with you that night?"

Ah yes, that infamous visit. In which I suddenly felt like some stray puppy Daniel had dragged home to show his folks. "Mom, Dad, this is Julian. I found him wandering around outside and don't think he has a home. Can I keep him?" "All right, dear. If you're sure he doesn't have fleas."

I can't bring myself to tell him the truth. Instead, I say, "Well, that wasn't...I mean, if I could go back in time, I'd probably do things differently."

"Anyway, what I wanted to say before...all this...was that you don't have to worry about the biography. I'm not going to discuss your personal life or anything that I already said in the first book. You have my word on that."

"Thanks." I don't know if I believe him, but maybe he's telling the truth.

"And for the record, I don't think I was the saint when it came to what happened between us. You're right - I could have spoken up a lot more when things bothered me."

I nod.

"But it's been what, five years? Are you still mad at me?"

It's actually four and a half, but I don't correct him. "No. Not anymore."

And surprisingly, I mean it. Maybe the real question is not who is the villain or the hero of the story - it's not like it's going to be us that gets to decide how history judges us - but does it really still matter?

"And it's not like I look back on those years we were friends as all bad. When we weren't at each other's throats, we actually made a pretty good team."

"Wrong," I say, and when he frowns, I amend, "We made a great team."

"I should probably get going soon, but we should stay in touch. If you want to..."

Is this a truce? Maybe. Whatever it is, it's something I definitely want to pursue.

"Sure," I say, though part of me feels like I'm about to jump off a cliff. "Why not?"


End file.
